


to carry on

by saekhwa



Series: When I Think of Home [3]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Black Character(s), Domestic, Established Relationship, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: Floyd's got one goal: catch Rick up on some masterpieces in film. Their night is interrupted by an unexpected guest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Moriavis for beta'ing.

They'd reached another one of Floyd's favorite scenes in the movie, where Vera was about to pull out the razor to fuck Quick up. Floyd jabbed Rick with his elbow. "You awake? You better be awake 'cause if you miss this, we through."

Rick let out the same sigh he'd been exhaling each time Floyd started in on him. "I'm awake. You don't have to shove me to figure that out."

Floyd laughed but directed Rick's attention back to the screen. "Now pay attent—"

The doorbell rang. Rick stiffened beside him, and Floyd froze, too. This late at night, they weren't expecting company, and no good company ever showed up past midnight. He and Rick shared a look, Rick lookin' grim, his mouth set in a frown that Floyd hadn't seen since they'd earned their tenuous freedom from Waller's task force. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet Saturday when Floyd could catch Rick up on as much classic black cinema as possible, specifically those movies that weren't appropriate for Zoe to watch yet. 

This prime cinematic moment was getting interrupted by someone at the door. Rick pulled away, out of the cradle of Floyd's arm, and Floyd straight up vaulted over the back of the couch, sprinting to the bedroom to get the Glock that they technically didn't own from the safe in the closet. He slammed home the clip, tucked another clip in his pocket, and advanced slowly toward the living room, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any bullshit, particularly a SWAT team bustin' through windows kind of bullshit. 

When he reached the living room, he spotted Rick crouched below the window nearest the door. Rick turned to make eye contact and held up one finger, but neither one of 'em could trust that there was only one person out there. 

Floyd nodded and hunched down behind the couch, taking aim at the door, keeping the kitchen in his periphery, too. If shit got too heavy, they had an escape route and bug-out bags, but the longer this took to pop off, the more Floyd worried that what waited for them was a legit squad who'd tracked every route he and Rick could take out of here. 

The doorbell sounded again as Rick carefully lifted the curtain. He blew out a breath that almost sounded disgusted. Maybe it was, 'cause Rick shook his head and stood. 

"You're never gonna guess who it is."

Floyd frowned but didn't lower the Glock as Rick walked to the door. "Waylon."

Rick shot him an exasperated look, and Floyd shrugged. 

"Wait." He narrowed his eyes on the door. "Don't tell me it's that racist motherfu—"

"It's Harley," Rick said, and opened the door. 

And there she was with her pigtails, one half dyed a bright ass pink and the other dyed neon blue. She whirled around to face them, throwing up one arm, showing all teeth with her manic grin. "Ta da! It's the one and only, boys."

Floyd took his finger off the trigger and slowly rose, taking two steps to the left to scope out the street behind her. He didn't immediately spot her uglier, crazier half from this distance, but they could never be too safe and Harley showing up unannounced was never good news. Floyd was just grateful she'd chosen a weekend that he didn't have Zoe. Not a mess that he wanted to try and explain, though Floyd was pretty sure Zoe would've been as chill about this as she'd been with his former career as an assassin for hire. Still not something he would ever risk.

"It's just me, myself, and I," Harley said, giggling as she lowered her arm, setting her hand on her hip. "They all say hi." She winked at Rick, who squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You've got any idea what time it is?" He dropped his hand and stared at her. "No, of fucking course not. Like you don't know how much shit you're putting us in by—" He gestured broadly and then looked at Floyd.

"We talked about this, Harley. Boundaries, remember?" Floyd said, glancing behind her again to make sure no one was trying to take advantage of this somewhat awkward situation. Fortunately, Floyd didn't have nosey ass white neighbors trying to get all up in their business.

Harley nodded, smile fading. "I know, and I didn't forget, okay? I... " She wrapped her arms around herself, glancing over her shoulder before turning to look at them with a smaller, softer smile. "Can I come in? Please? Pretty please? With cherry bombs on top?"

Rick looked like he was going to explode again, but Floyd took a moment to look at her—not the wild ass clothes she wore to hide behind or all the makeup and tats. He looked at how she held herself, both hands wrapped tightly around her upper arms like she was cold, even though tonight was a balmy eighty degrees. Her smile turned tight at the edges as she darted a look left and right, digging her fingers into her own skin. It was like she'd been watching her back the whole way here. Floyd hoped she had. He only wanted one surprise tonight. 

"Who's after you?" he asked. 

She looked at him but then shook her head so hard that her pigtails whipped back and forth. "It's not Mr. J if that's what you're thinkin'. It's not anyone. I just need a place. You know, somewhere to lay low a while."

"Why not Ivy's?" Rick asked. 

He had a point. Floyd arched his eyebrow to share the sentiment. 

Harley bared her teeth in answer, eyes narrowed. "The Bats got her," she snarled. "And she didn't even _do_ nothin' this time."

Floyd bit back a laugh as he watched Rick open his mouth, shut it, and give up on making any kind of sense of this situation. Floyd understood where Harley was comin' from, though. The Bats lived to fuck up a good day. 

"Okay," Floyd said, but held up a hand when Harley beamed a smile. "One night, and we aren't gonna help you bust Ivy out."

Harley's face fell, shoulders dropping as she kicked the door jamb. "You're no fun anymore, Floyd."

"Probably 'cause I've settled down," Floyd said, and shot a smile at Rick, whose expression softened just before he averted his eyes. Probably so Harley wouldn't see. 

Floyd stepped aside, and Harley skipped inside the house. "Oooh, it's so perfect!" 

Rick shut the door and tapped Floyd's arm. He waited for Floyd to turn around before he gently grabbed hold of Floyd's forearm. "This is a bad idea," he murmured. 

"With Harley?" Floyd snorted. "It always is." He grinned when Rick scowled. "You're the one who fell in with a criminal."

" _Ex_." 

Floyd laughed at how Rick always emphasized that word, always the same way with his jaw set. "Maybe to you but not to everybody."

Rick's fingers tightened on Floyd's arm, gaze intensifying when he took a step forward. Floyd consented with a small nod, and Rick rushed in, kissing him rough and quick. "I don't give a shit about everybody else," he said. 

Floyd laughed, just a soft huff of sound as he cupped the back of Rick's neck, squeezing gently to draw Rick in for another kiss. "Come on. Let's finish this movie."

Rick nodded, still wearing that look of single-minded determination, and Floyd returned the Glock and clips to the safe. When he came back to the living room, he took one look at Harley on the sofa, dressed in one of Rick's gray hoodies and a pair of Floyd's green sweatpants, holding a bowl of popcorn. He hoped she'd pulled those clothes from the dryer, but he raised an eyebrow at Rick. Rick mouthed _who the fuck knows?_ and shrugged. The bastard had also taken the other end of the couch, which meant Floyd would either have to take the middle seat or move to the loveseat and watch the movie at an angle. 

Floyd sat in the middle but leaned right up into Rick's space, fully intending to use him as a pillow as payback. 

"So whatcha watching?" Harley asked, staring wide-eyed at the screen as she dramatically clutched a handful of popcorn. 

Floyd grinned and scooped up the remote. "A cinematic classic," he said, and restarted the movie.


End file.
